Take My Breath Away
by NoSoundJustWords
Summary: The Golden Trio wants to befriend Draco Malfoy. People hate him, mostly. Astoria Greengrass has problems he is determined to solve. Did he mention the panic attacks that he, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley seem to have in common? What is going on with his life? Canon pairings, Eight Year, not epilogue compliant. Full summary inside.
1. In Which Strange is the New Normal

**Summary: **It's Eighth Year, and Draco Malfoy has to contend with the Universe being very strange. The Golden Trio is trying to befriend him. (They've gone insane, the stress must be getting to Potter). People mostly hate him. (He's trying to work on that one, but not really.) Astoria Greengrass has eating problems and think's she isn't beautiful. (Why does she matter so much to him?) Did he mention that he, Harry Potter, and Ronald Weasley have something in _common_? (Namely, panic attacks that severely hinder Draco in his quest to be cool, calm, and collected?) What is the world coming to? It doesn't matter, because Draco Malfoy thinks he may have found his life again, and he does not intend to lose this newfound purpose any time soon

**Canon Pairings, Not Epilogue Compliant because in my epilogue everyone is friends, Eighth Year (and pretending Harry and Ron are actually coming to school) and such. **

**Hi there. :D Long time no see. Want to read something about Draco Malfoy? Of course you do, how can anyone resist His Blondeness? XD Sorry that I never post anything. I have a lot of stories that I start and never finish. If you have the time, I'd love for you guys to read this and review. Do you like it? Hate it? Wish I'd never published it? Or want the next chapter? :) Review and tell me, if people like this I'll try to put up the next chapter. :D (and sorry if the characters are a bit OOC or stuff moves to fast. I'm not very patient with these characters. if it really bothers you, tell me. Also, please try to make it constructive criticism.)**

**I don't own these characters, nor will I ever. *tear tear* This is not made for profit or anything or...yeah. *insert Disclaimer-y things here***

**Thank you! :3**

When it's all over, he becomes a shadow.

Its eighth year, and he comes back because of all the places in the world, Hogwarts is the only place left that he might be able to call home (_Home_. It used to be the Manor, the summer home in France, Blaise's mansion, and Hogwarts. Now the Manor is full of pain, the French home full of _mother_, and Blaise – Blaise has deserted him, completely.) It holds bad memories and good; he used to be a bully here, but the castle itself never judged him for that, and lent its secrets to him as if there was no difference between him and Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World And Draco Too. (Oh, Draco has to lose his snark about the Savior – Potter saved him, after all.)

But even if Hogwarts is the only home he has left, its people are not of the same mind as the castle is, and taunts and jeers (and the occasional curse) follow him wherever he goes. He can't blame anyone for it, because the deeds his father has done will never be fully avenged. But he wishes people would stop talking about his mother and him like that; after all, they hadn't had the Dark Lord under their roof for a year. He learns to hide in the shadows and avoid people. He moves silently and swiftly, and loses his arrogance (skulking in the dark corners of Hogwarts robs one of their air of presumed confidence, and thus their arrogance disappears). He never speaks in class, but ensures that all his work is top notch and perfect so that the teachers cannot give him anything other than good marks. He doesn't know if the teachers would be so inclined as to judge him based on his past actions, because other than Snape they've always seemed like fair teachers, but he doesn't want to take chances. So life continues on for him, quietly and lonely.

Until Granger decides that being crazy is something one should do on a regular basis.

At first, it's simple. She skids around the corner in the library, breathless. Draco's surprised that anyone had found his corner, because it's in such a dusty section of the library with books that only he would possibly consent to reading about (Draco loves books. No subject in particular, just books). He's even more surprised that she seems to have run here. He finally concludes that she's crazy when she plops herself down across the table and spreads out her books. She starts to do her Potions essay.

And that's all, really. She sits and does her homework next to Draco like it's the most natural thing in the world to sit civilly near the boy that tormented you for seven years. For his part, Draco gets barely any work done and spends most of his time covertly gaping at Granger. Merlin, what a strange day, he thinks.

The next day, the same thing happens. And the next. And the next. It continues on for a week and Draco's almost used to it until something new happens.

"Malfoy" Granger says softly, and Draco's eyes widen comically as he promptly falls from his seat. Granger's eyes twinkle as she holds back her laughter and Draco gets up gracefully from the ground.

"Merlin, Malfoy, I just wanted to borrow a quill. You didn't need to…fall apart." She says softly. Draco sniffs and hands her a spare quill (Oh, yes, there's his snark. It's all coming back now.)

"You can't just _do_ that, Granger." He says with no real malice. Granger is being casual with him. This is so bizarre that Draco nearly falls off his chair again. He's quite uncoordinated really, when it comes down to it.

"Do what?" she says, frowning thoughtfully at her essay.

"Um…be…friendly." He stammers. Really, what does this crazy girl expect? One does not just be friendly with one's enemy. The girl in question now looks up slowly, frowning.

"Why ever not?" she asks, amusement coloring her voice.

"Because…I…was not very friendly too you." He says slowly, looking down at the ground. In truth, he's glad for the company. He doesn't like to admit it, but this is possibly the first civil conversation he's had with anyone all year. He's lonely.

"Water under the bridge." She says, dismissing the guilt that's racked Draco for moths with a casual wave of her hand. "Can we swap Arithmancy essays and check each other's? I'm not satisfied with mine and I can see some mistakes on yours."

Draco is stunned. He's shocked. How can she not care? It's been eating at him for months now, ever since the Fiendfyre. Merlin, but he'd been so blind. Following his father's orders, always believing his father, and trying to kill everyone. He is so messed up, so wrong and twisted, and he regrets it all now. His regret eats away at him, chokes him, comes creeping up at the most inconvenient of times – like now as a matter of fact.

He stops breathing quite suddenly, panicking. _Merlin_, what can he do, how can he live with all that he's done –

"Malfoy! Malfoy, breathe! Damn it Malfoy! Breathe!" he hears Granger hissing. She slaps him quite suddenly, hard and fast, and all of a sudden his lungs are working and he quietly gulps great mouthfuls of air. He looks at Granger. She _slapped_ him. All of a sudden, he starts laughing. What a practical girl she is.

"Thanks Granger. I needed that." Malfoy says in a genuine voice. He's still smiling. She didn't hesitate at slapping an almost stranger. It's good to know there are some things that never change – Granger will always be smart and practical.

"Er…you're welcome." She says, gaping slightly at Malfoy genuinely thanking her. "Sorry for slapping you. I didn't know what else to do and that's what I usually do for Harry and Ron." She remarks, then holds up her essay. "Arithmancy essay?" she asks. He hands his over and takes her essay.

"Potter and Weasley have panic attacks too?" he asks wonderingly (barely refraining from the urge to call them Potty and Weasel). What on earth could they possibly panic about? Granger nods absentmindedly.

"Why?" he asks softly. (And there was a time when he would have said that in a much nastier tone and she would have possibly slapped him, but Granger apparently only slaps people with panic attacks. And maybe bad guys, but Draco's not sure about that one because he's pretty sure Granger slapped him because she didn't want him to die. Not because he was a bad guy. But this is completely beside the point right now, so Draco returns to the task at hand.) Granger looks up, and her brown eyes are filled with such sadness and pain. Draco holds her gaze defiantly. He's been through a war too, and his eyes are haunted by ghosts as well.

Almost as if she read his mind, she says, "They went through a war too."

* * *

Draco keeps that in mind as he makes his way to Arithmancy the next week. It's true, he thinks, Potter and Weasley have experienced the power of the Dar – _Voldemort_ – firsthand. He'd forgotten, really, that the Golden Trio remains haunted by the darkest shadows.

It gives him a strange feeling of camaraderie towards them, and he walks into the classroom reflecting that two years ago, he would have never believed that he could ever feel friendly towards those three. But Granger's the first person to have a proper conversation with him in ages, and he's not such a judgemental idiot anymore.

He idly doodles on his paper as Professor Vector come in and busies herself with the papers on her desk. Draco is completely unprepared for a breathless Granger tiptoeing late into the classroom and sliding into the empty seat next to Draco, and so he has his second heart attack of the week when she whispers, "Malfoy."

He splutters and pulls himself together as Professor Vector turns around and starts handing back essays.

"You and I have got to stop meeting like this." He tells her seriously. "It can't possibly be good for my health or your sanity." (Oh look, Draco's wit has returned after one polite conversation with a living, breathing, human being. Is he really that lonely? _Lovely._) Granger laughs softly.

"Sorry. I got caught up with Ron" (here she blushes lightly) "and I ran a little late. You sit right next to the door, it's really convenient. What do you mean, for my sanity? I'm sure that even if _you_ are insane, insanity is not catching. Oh! Look, the Professor's handing back our essays. I'll have you know that I'm expecting at least an O on my essay, since it's got the brains of the two top students in the class, Malfoy." The girl says in a rush. (Dear sweet Merlin, this girl is a chatterbox sometimes. She's probably nervous about being late, Draco reasons.)

"Who knew? Snogging Weasley makes you a rule breaker, and humorous! He may have some value after all." Draco says, deadpan. Granger smacks his arm lightly, but she's smiling.

"That's my boyfriend you're talking about, watch it." She says lightly. They both fall silent as Professor Vector hands back their essays, raising an eyebrow at the two of them sitting together.

"Well done, both of you." She says, smiling and looking a little confused, before hurrying off. Draco hurriedly snatches his paper up and looks at his grade, Granger doing the same next to him. A beautiful, round, O stares back at him. He sneaks a glance at Granger's paper, and sees the same wonderful letter staring back at him. He looks up to see Granger looking at his paper, and they both share the delighted smiles of overachievers who have overachieved, before both turning to the board where the lesson is starting.

Halfway through the lesson, Granger scribbles something on a blank sheet of parchment and slowly slides it to his side of the desk,

_What did you mean from before, when you said that talking to you was going to make me insane? _

**Granger! We're in the middle of a lesson! **

_I just know that you've already studied this extensively. The difficult chapters that require a teacher's help don't start until the next four chapters are done. So, talk, because I'm bored. _

**Granger, I would have never imagined that you would be the type of person to pass notes. And to me, of all people. Let me check the windows, I think I heard a flying pig. **

_Well, I don't know. Honestly, after all the excitement of the war, classes are a little boring for me. I love to learn, but most of this stuff? I've already made a practical application of. Usually, Harry and Ron are entertaining enough, but this is one of the classes they don't take. And you're entertaining now that you're not trying to kill/insult me! :) I sit up in front usually in this class, and nobody ever sits next to me. It's lonely. You're lonely. Let's be lonely Arithmancy partners. And you need to answer my question regarding insanity. _

**Granger, you're a chatterbox. Has anyone ever told you that? But I suppose the war has made all this a little useless. I'm entertaining? Please, that's far too simple a compliment for me. I'm charming. I'm suave. I'm amazing. Nobody sits next to you? Why? Be thankful that the stupid kids in class don't sit next you, because stupidity is catching. Keep that in mind. **

**Regarding insanity? It's insane that Hermione Granger is talking to Draco Malfoy like good friends. Do Potter and Weasley know about your newfound love of the insane? **

_Yes, someone's told me that. You, right now. _

_Oh, of course, pardon. Entertaining is a peasant description, and you need an adjective fit for the royals, yes?_

_Stupidity is not catching, otherwise I would be extremely idiotic thanks to Harry and Ron. (Don't tell them I said that, they're surprisingly smart in some areas.)_

_Speaking of Harry and Ron, yes, they do know, and they think that you'd actually make an excellent friend. You'd be surprised at how much their attitudes have changed about you. We like you, you know, because you were just a kid thrust into circumstances by an older generation, like we were. Anyway, Harry wants you to know that he'd like to accept that offer from seven years ago, if it's still there. And Ron wants to know if you can play chess. _

Draco's heart constricts painfully and a lump lodges itself in the back of his throat as he reads and rereads the note. Potter is willing to take him up on the offer. On his offer. On _his _offer of friendship. He'd been so mad and embarrassed in first year, because Potter had _not_ been impressed by Draco. And Draco had wanted so badly to impress Potter. Instead, Potter had chosen Weasley – Weasley, who Draco was even more jealous of, because Weasley had brothers and sisters and cheerful parents, and most importantly, he had Potter.

Draco blinks hard a few times. He's being offered friendship from the Golden Trio. A smile finds its way onto his face, and he stops paying attention to the lesson and instead drops his eyes onto the paper in front of him and read's Granger's words over and over and over again.

When class ends, Draco looks up from the paper with a start. He stretches languidly as all the students pack up around him and leave. Granger stays behind a bit, as Draco slowly packs his things away. She hums impatiently.

"You should tell me why you grinned like a lunatic throughout class and decided to stop passing notes." She commands him as he stands up and slings his bookbag onto his shoulder. He just grins again and walks jauntily out the door, Granger scowling and hurrying to keep up with him. Once they're out in the hallway, he turns one way and calls over his shoulder to Granger, "I am excellent at chess, and of course the offer still stands."

* * *

Draco's good mood lasts all the way until the common room. He has a peaceful expression on his face and he's making his way through all the students when a he feels the sharp pain of a Stinging Hex graze his cheek.

Normally, he would ignore such a thing, but he thinks he _just became friends with Harry Potter_, so he's feeling braver than usual.

He whirls around, with his wand clenched loosely at his side and searches for the culprit. He sneers as his gaze falls on a fifth year that walks across the room towards him.

The fifth year sneers back, albeit less impressively.

"What's got you so happy, scum?" the swaggering brute asks loudly. Almost everyone in the common room has turned to watch the exchange, because this is the first time Draco's responded to the bullying.

"Certainly not your poorly aimed Stinging Hex." Draco says haughtily, smoothing his features into an icy glare. Internally, a thrill runs through him. He's missed this, being cool, calm and collected. The bully scowls at him.

"You've got no right to swagger in here all happy and unconcerned, _Death Eater_. It's because of you that Slytherin House is so unpopular. Because of scum like you." The other boy says, and Draco's glare hardens as rage coils within him. The words _Death Eater_ ring inside his head, mocking him, taunting him, reminding him of everything he's done. His breath starts to come in quiet, irregular breaths, as panic overwhelms him once again. He was sure he could take on this stupid bully, but he hadn't counted on his panic attacks, and now his heads fills with memories, of his mother crying, begging the Dark Lord, of the cruel smiles as he screamed in pain when he got his Dark Mark, of the fire, of –

"That's _enough_." A clear voice cuts straight through his muddled mind. It has a soothing, calming lilt to it, and Draco finds himself responding immediately, and clearing his mind, letting the beautiful voice was over him. His breathing evens out, and he finally looks up, his grey eyes sweeping the room.

A petite girl with short brown hair steps out of a group of girls near one of the sofas. She's looking at Draco strangely, and Draco tries to place here. She looks to be in sixth year, and her eyes – a striking jade color, eerily similar to Potter's – remind him of someone else in his House. He runs through the people in his House – maybe she's Theo's sister? But no, he's pretty sure Theo doesn't have a sister.

The girl strides forward confidently, though it looks a bit ridiculous because she looks very childish for her age. He eyes – Draco winces inwardly because they reflect the pain of the war and Draco finally realizes that this is Astoria Greengrass, one of the few Slytherins who returned to fight in the final battle.

Greengrass steps in front of Draco and crosses her arms. She stands there and faces down a fifth year twice her size. The fifth year fidgets a bit.

"Greengrass, stay out of this. It has nothing to do with you." the boy says, his voice low and threatening. Draco is surprised when Greengrass stand her ground and whips out her wand, lightning quick.

"Let me ask you a question, Wilson." She says, her voice quiet and delicate. It reminds Draco of a flower covered in frost, and he's a bit unnerved how much like porcelain she is.

But then, like frost melting away from a flower, like fine porcelain shattering on the ground, her voice hardens and she asks, still quietly, "Did _you_ fight in the last battle?" Wilson splutters.

"I should think _not_." He says, surprised. Obviously, that was the last question he was expecting. Draco feels the same way, and looks on bemused at the Greengrass girl, waiting for her to deliver the final blow and say something extremely clever.

"I fought, and Malfoy fought. And fighting that war is what lets you wake up every morning and go to class and not fear for your life. You owe us your _life_, Wilson." she says, her stance rigid and her voice cold. Everyone is hanging on to her words, and Draco is surprised by the degree of truth that rings in her voice. (Sure, he fought, but the side he fought on was a bit blurred.)

And just as suddenly, her posture relaxes, she uncrosses her arms, says casually, "So bugger _off._", and sends a well-aimed Stinging Hex at Wilson. The boy staggers, and Draco's mouth lifts in a tiny smile.

"You're lucky I don't hit girls, Malfoy, else you wouldn't have gotten away!" Wilson rages, glaring at Draco as he gets off the floor. Draco lifts an eyebrow.

"Oh? I would say you're lucky I don't hit girls either, but you're not _that_ lucky seeing as Greengrass seems to have no qualms about hitting a girl." He says, offering Greengrass his elbow as the common room explodes on giggles and quiet laughs. "Shall we?" he says to the girl, and she smiles softly and takes his elbow. They walk out of the common room.

They wander down some hallways as Draco gathers his thoughts. Greengrass standing up for him is on a level of bizarre only matched by Granger talking to him or Harry Potter wanting to be friend with him. After almost a week and a half of such surprises, Draco is almost at ease with Greengrass. Almost, because he is still very unsure of her motives. She is a Slytherin, after all.

They've been walking for some time when Draco finally speaks. "Why all the fuss?" he asks, finally as they travel down a rarely used corridor to the Great Hall for dinner. Greengrass smiles again.

"I saw you fighting during the war. You're rather good." She says conversationally. Draco frowns.

"Exactly who did you see me fighting?" he asks, wondering how she can be so casual towards him. (But then again, if _Granger_ can be casual towards him, then anything is possible, really.)

"Everyone." She says, waving her hand dismissively. "You were very brave." Draco is even more surprised at this, but he's rather good at telling if someone is lying or not (You have to be, when the Dark Lord decides that your house would serve as the perfect headquarters for all things dastardly.), and he can tell that she's telling the truth.

"So were you." He tell her honestly, remembering how she had looked in that one glimpse he had of her during the battle, her short ponytail flying and her childish face yelling school hexes. "You had some very creative uses of the Stinging Hex." He remembers.

"I didn't want to use any curse that a Death Eater would use. Call it my personal revenge against the Carrows. It left me with first year curses." She says, smirking. Personally, Draco admires her, but outwardly, he's never going to admit it. He waits. He's got this feeling that if he waits, she'll talk. Before they turn into the crowded doorway leading to the Great Hall, she pauses, tugging on Draco's elbow to stop him. He obediently halts, and she starts to talk hesitantly.

"You fought in the war. That…that's enough for people to leave you alone. I saw you. You were terrified. And I heard that the Dark Lord was in your house all year, and I thought _that_ was certainly enough terror to change you, and I was right, but other people didn't believe that. I can't say I completely approve of all you did, but you fought in a war. _That's just enough._ You've earned the right to peace and quiet, and a life where you decide what you want to do. And I thought you'd strike out this year, all ablaze in typical Malfoy fashion and I thought – that's one thing I can count on. But you didn't and you were so subdued and quiet. Today, you walked in smiling and you _responded _to Wilson. That – I was impressed. You looked more alive than ever. But then I saw you beginning to have a panic attack and I just – I felt so bad for you. And my healing instincts just kicked in and I wanted to save you. So I stepped in." Greengrass finishes her impressive speech and then adds, almost as an afterthought. "And I don't like Wilson."

Draco is stunned, and touched. But he doesn't want to admit this to Greengrass, because she makes him feel strangely vulnerable. So he looks her in the eyes and says, "Nobody's deemed me worth saving before, so I'm honored." And that's the closest he's going to get to thanking her, but she accepts it because she's Slytherin and she sees right through it to Draco's own admission that she did save him.

He moves to go to dinner, expecting Greengrass to follow, but she doesn't. He turns back to her questioningly, and she fidgets slightly and says, "I'm not hungry tonight." She waves and smiles charmingly before turning and heading back the way they came, walking fast. Draco frowns. Something is wrong here, but he can't for the life of him figure out what it is.

* * *

He walks into the Great Hall, and is about to move towards the Slytherin table when he hears Granger.

"Malfoy!" she calls cheerfully, and he turns to here. His expression probably reads somewhere along the lines of _Granger, what did I tell you about crazy acts of kindness towards old enemies?_ She optimistically ignores him and waves him over to where the Golden Trio are sitting. Weasley is looking back towards him with a sort of ambiguous half smile, and Potter is really smiling, cocking an eyebrow as if challenging Draco to come over to the table. Draco haughtily raises his chin and makes his way towards the table, firmly telling himself that it's only because of Potters unspoken challenge that he's doing this, not because he wants to preserve this tenuous friendship with Granger.

Nearly the whole Hall falls silent as Draco makes his way to the Gryffindor table. He walks purposefully, not letting his nervousness seep through, and slides in next to Granger, sitting stiffly. He looks briefly at Potter and Weasley, then looks back down at the table. _Why is the whole Hall still silent?_

A blush rises to Draco's cheeks. Granger seems to notice the problem and gives Weasley a Look which says there-is-something-wrong-here-figure-it-out-and-fix-it, and nods sharply towards Draco. Weasley stares for a few seconds before grinning and looking over his shoulder to the other tables.

"Oy, don't you lot have dinner to eat?" he asks loudly, gazing sharply at everyone. People seem to remember that they're gawking and hurriedly turn to their food and start to gossip about the abnormality of the whole situation.

As soon as the chatter has reached the level it was before Draco entered, he looks towards Granger and hisses, "What are you _doing_? I told you, we have to stop meeting in situations where you are obviously going insane." Granger smiles winningly and gestures to Potter.

"It was his idea." She says, turning to her food. "I am _not_ insane." She mutters absentmindedly.

"You are." Draco says persistently.

"It's quite true." Potter says suddenly, an amused expression on his face.

"He's right, you're mental." Weasley adds, grinning as Granger looks up from her food and frowns.

"I realize that this is how you three are bonding, and that is the only reason why those comments are going unanswered." She snaps, her eyes laughing when her mouth doesn't.

"We're not _bonding_." Draco insists, aghast. Potter and Weasley laugh, and Draco turns to them and raises an eyebrow.

"If you say so, Malfoy." Weasley says, still sniggering. "I think we'd all be unstoppable together!" he proclaims, brandishing his knife about like Excalibur. Draco is astonished at _this_ proclamation. He hastily covers up his surprise.

"Potter, this ludicrous charade of being friendly was your idea?" he sniffs, with no real malice in his words. Potter grins again.

"Oh Malfoy, you always use such big words. In more…lowly terms, this idea of being friends was my idea. Yes. I thought you could use some friends." Potter says casually, and that stings. This was all a farce then, Draco thinks, a pity party. He had really thought that Potter wanted to be friends, but apparently Potter just thought Draco was _lonely. _He was just doing his duty as the blasted Savior of All That Breathes to ensure that Draco had _friends. _

Draco's face immeadiately turns from slightly friendly to completely hostile, and he stands up stiffly. Granger is glaring at Potter, who is utterly confused and apparently has no idea why Draco looks so angry. Weasley is staring at Draco worriedly.

"Wait. Malfoy, _wait¸_ please, that's not what he meant –" Weasley starts and Draco laughs bitterly.

"Yes that _is_ what he meant – Potter would _never_ want to be friends with me – what was I thinking? I bet he put you up to following me and befriending me too." Draco says, as this new thought hits him. He's not sure if it's even a plausible thought, but one look at Granger's face tells him all he needs to know – he was right. _Everything_ – this tentative build up with the people he had always wanted to get to know – it was all a lie. They didn't want him. Nobody does – and why, really, did he think that the Boy Who Lived and Lived and Lived would ever have anything in common with him?

This is the end, Draco thinks, this is really the end. He has absolutely nobody for him. He is such a wretched creature. He stands and walks out of the hallway, so unbelievably angry. He doesn't look back at Potter. He doesn't want to see the Savior shrug and turn back to his dinner, his face saying, _oh well, I tried, now where are the potatoes?_

If he had looked back, he might have seen Harry Potter, the Boy Who Never Died, have a panic attack over the fact that he might have completely alienated Draco Malfoy.


	2. In Which an Alliance is Formed

Draco doesn't look back, though, and he just keeps going until he reaches Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He goes there a lot nowadays, because there's never anyone in there, and Myrtle has just disappeared. He supposes that she must have moved on after the Dar – _Voldemort's_ death. Though she's gone, nobody uses the bathrooms.

Draco bangs the door open and rushes to the sink, his anger flowing over him as he thinks about _stupid_ Potter and _stupid _Granger. Did they think it was funny? Did they think he was pathetic? Draco looks at himself in the mirror, and hates himself. He looks so gaunt and pale, like a restless ghost, and its no wonder people hate him, all the things he's done, the spells he's cast, the blood he's cast, Merlin, Merlin, _Merlin, _he can't breathe, he doesn't deserve the _air_ –

Something abruptly thumps him in the back and he falls to the ground, but is caught before his head can make a nasty collision with the ground and lowered gently so that he's leaning against the wall opposite the sink. He gulps, taking in large quantities of air and catching his breath as he wearily opens his eyes to thank his savior. He sees red hair and blue eyes and groans. _Really?_ Another one of the Perfectly Golden Trio has rescued him from his panic attack?

He's too tired and worn out from the sudden departure of all his anger to find it in him to be snarky or mean to Weasley, though, so he just quietly mutters _thank you_ and looks at the ground. He expects the boy to walk out, but is surprised when he slumps down besides Draco and runs a hand through his hair.

"You too?" Weasley asks, and Draco remembers Granger saying that Weasley and Potter have these damned attacks too. Draco nods stiffly, unsure of what Weasley will do or say. Really, Weasley is the one who he's the most unsure of after the war. He can tell the war has changed him, but he's not sure how.

"I'm sorry. For what Harry said. He didn't mean it, you know. He was really upset once he realized what he said, because he really wants to be friends with you. He's always been a bit obsessed with you, really. Saying that you need friends is his way of reasoning to himself that he's not been oddly obsessed with you for years. He really wants you as a friend." Weasley says, slowly and thoughtfully, choosing his words carefully. Draco realizes with a start that though he would never have been friends with Weasley a year ago, this new, practical, thoughtful, and optimistic Weasley is someone he could easily become friends with. Still, though, Draco doesn't believe in everything ends up happily ever after, so he snorts at Weasley's reasoning.

"What a load of tripe." He says. "You've been listening to Granger!"

"It's not a load of tripe!" Weasley protests. "So, yeah, I've been listening to Hermione, but she's quite _sensible _so I don't see the problem he –" All of a sudden, lightning quick, Weasley stops talking and whips out his wand. Draco starts and moves to cover his face with his wand – he doesn't think he'll make it, Weasley's suddenly decided to hex him and it turns out the boy is _fast_ – but he does so anyway and is surprised to see Weasley aim the wand at a stall door and blast it away. Draco is utterly appalled at Weasley's destructive behavior and decides that Granger's insanity must be catching until he sees the smoke clearing and hearing someone else – a feminine someone else – coughing.

Weasley stands up and strides over to the girl and hauls her up. All of a sudden he stops and groans. He mutters a few choice curse words and then picks the girl up easily, cradling her gently in his arms, walking over to where Draco is sitting. Draco suddenly sits up straighter, because it's _Astoria Greengrass_. Draco should be completely used to life deciding to dump the most unexpected surprises by now, but he still does a double take at Astoria Greenglass cradled in Ron Weasley's arms. Why is she even here? And, _oh Merlin_, she must have heard his panic attack and Weasley _comforting_ him.

Thoughts of his embarrassment, however, are quickly banished as he takes a closer look at Greengrass. There are dried tear tracks running down her cheeks, and she looks miserable. Draco immediately wants to protect her, the way she protected him. (And that might be a sappy thought, but Malfoys _always_ repay those who help them.) But what Weasley does next is even more puzzling. He sets Greengrass down gently in front of Draco and looks at her very seriously. He makes sure that the girl is looking at him before he says with an endearing, honest expression on his face, "You're beautiful." Draco's not sure how the Universe could get any odder than this.

As if the Universe had personally heard his request, Greengrass teeters dangerously before she breaks down sobbing. Her sobs are dry and raspy, and sound off. She collapses, falling ungracefully, and Draco catches her, surprised. He cradles her gingerly in his arms as she sobs her soul out (what the _heck_ is Draco supposed to do with a _crying_ girl?) and looks up questioningly at Weasley. What about the phrase "You're beautiful" makes a girl weep like this?

Weasley shakes his head grimly, striding over to the stall and waving his wand over it, muttering a few words. Draco frowns as he hears a few of the incantations.

"Weasley, _what_ are you Vanishing?" he asks, confused. Weasley strides back.

"The stuff she threw up." He says, nodding towards the now quiet girl in Draco's arms. Draco's mind suddenly clicks as all the pieces fall into place – the girl refusing to come to dinner, the way she looks so fragile, hiding in a restroom – it all makes sense now. (And Draco's known this girl for a few hours, yet he's already so invested in her and likes her too much – _what_ is going on?) He looks down at the shaking girl in his arms who is deluded by the world's view of skinny beauty and thinks he may have something worth protecting again.

Draco and Weasley calm Greengrass down and promise not to tell anyone. They don't try to talk her out of it – Draco, because Pansy went through this stage to and he knows that reasoning with them does no good, and Weasley because, as the redhead confides in him later, Brown told him what it was like when Patil had started to do this. So both boys simply let her go and watch her walk away, her shoulder's straightening and her steps growing confident as she resumes her strong façade. But now that Draco's seen under it, he's not going to let it fool him anymore. He turns to Weasley, who's staring thoughtfully at the door and tapping his wand against his leg gently.

"What are we going to do, Weasley?" he asks. The other boy shifts, surprised.

"We?" he asks, raising a questioning eyebrow at Draco. "About Greengrass?" Draco flushes.

"Unless you don't want to help her, Weasley, then I understand, you must not want to help Slytherins." Draco snaps, growing angry again. Weasley smiled gently and holds his hands up in a gesture of peace.

"No, no, I'm just glad…that you want to work with me. It's good seeing you have a purpose again. You look more alive than you have these past months." The boy says, smiling. Draco huffs. Gryffindors are such sentimental _saps_. (But he can't deny that Weasley's words give him a sort of gentle warm glow inside.)

"We need to save some people, Weasley, focus! What should we do?" Draco asks again, friendlier this time. Weasley twirls his wand and smiles.

"First, you", he says, pointing, "are going to call me Ron. Next, we are going to go see Harry and Hermione." And before Draco can protest, Weas- _Ron_ grabs his hand and drags him out of the restroom.

Draco's not ready to face the rest of the Golden And Shining And Stupendous Trio. He's just gotten used to Weasley and gotten over his preconceived notions of the boy he has been jealous of for seven years. He most certainly is not ready to face the two people he is still angry at and feels humiliated from. He tugs on Ron's hand and pulls him to a stop.

"Ron _wait_. I can't do this. Especially right now. _Stop _it." He tells the boy who is now tugging on his sleeve. He grows desperate as Ron ignores him and shakes his head.

"No, Draco." Ron says, and it hits Draco right then and there, because its been ages since anyone called him by his given name like a friend. He is friends with Ron Weasley.

It scares him.

It scares him that so quickly, these people can make him care and befriend him. Maybe now he sees the charm that the wizarding world has gushed about for so long. If you let yourself trust the Golden Trio for just a little bit, they are so friendly that you have no choice but to love them. Draco sighs. He doesn't know what he's gotten himself into. But a picture of Greengrass flashes through his mind – her pale face, the dried tear tracks, her hipbones so sharp. He looks at Ron – this boy who is committed to helping a girl he's barely met. (But then again, Draco barely knows Greengrass either. Maybe they've all got a hero complex, when it matters.)

For Astoria Greengrass, he thinks, he will do this. He will become friends with the Golden Trio because he wants to save Astoria Greengrass, this mysterious pretty girl. (And that's the excuse he gives himself, trying not to dwell on the fact that pathetic as he is, he will always want to be friends with Potter, Granger, and Weas - Ron.)

"Lead on, then." Draco says, resigning himself to his fate. A bundle of nerves builds up in him as they approach the Gryffindor Tower. He can do this, he _can_, he's a Malfoy, for heaven's sake. By Salazar, he _will_ become friends with Granger and Potter and save Greengrass and become a hero. He can do it. He will do it.

Ron stops all of a sudden, and stares at Draco, assessing him. Draco stares back defiantly. This sort of reminds him of what Blaise used to do, actually – when he thought something was wrong, he would stare at Draco until he figured it out. Pansy used to try to do it too, but Pansy was never as calculating as Blaise was. She was the emotional support part. Thinking of Blaise and Pansy makes him sad in a wistful way – what they had, he thinks, was the Golden Trio of Slytherin House. They were unstoppable together. Now, though, haunted by the war, they all sit separately and don't talk much, letting the seventh years swagger around. They know that if they want to, they can retake the House, but all the eighth years are too tired to play the often times dangerous games of Slytherin power and politics.

Draco realizes he's sidetracked himself with his thoughts and shakes his head once, looking at Ron.

"Well?" he asks. "Aren't we going to make me a good person and kiss and make up with Harry Potter?" He smirks. Oh, how he _missed_ his wit!

Ron surprises him by smirking. "Nah, not today." He says. Draco huffs indignantly.

"Weas - Ron, you better have a good reason for convincing me to face my fears and befriend you three, then backing down from it. Malfoys are not cowards. We don't back down." He says, frowning. Ron shakes his head.

"This isn't really backing down. For one, I don't think you or Harry are ready yet. Both of you are a little too tightly strung at this point. For another, I forgot something slightly important. Harry fire calls Teddy Lupin and 'Dromeda once every few days, and he's doing so tonight. I don't want to interrupt him." He says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry for dragging you all the way up here. Want to meet up tomorrow and discuss Greengrass? Since we both have a free period after lunch, we can play chess in that secret room behind the mermaid tapestry on the second floor."

Draco waves off the apology. "Don't be sorry, I'll be glad to face the Boy Who Can't Die some other day. More importantly, there's a _secret chess room_?" he asks incredulously. "Are you sure?" He's passed that tapestry a thousand times and he can swear there's no room there. Ron shrugs.

"Well, technically there isn't, but Hermione made one. Only she and I can open it. Harry always disappears off to the Room of Requirement, so we figured we should have a room too. It's more of a small alcove than anything, but it took 'Mione all summer to figure out how to make it. She did it while we were rebuilding the castle, since the magic of the castle itself was weakest at the time. She and I are the only ones that can actually access it, since we know the password." Ron said, looking proud. "'Mione's really something, isn't she?" Draco nodded, at a loss for words. Granger had manipulated Hogwarts itself. That witch really _was_ the most clever of them all. Ron frowned.

"Speaking of Hermione, I want you to know that she does want to be your friend too. Not just because Harry wanted her too. She really wants to pick your brain, says it would be nice to have someone smart to talk for a change." The redhead says, smiling sheepishly at the end of his sentence. Draco nods absently, having already calmed down and figured out as much. There's something else occupying his mind and though he's worked it out (he's one of the two top students in their grade, his mind works at incredible speeds sometimes) he needs Weasley to confirm it.

"Teddy Lupin. My…" he says, trailing off. Ron's face shifts into a strange, calculating look as he looks Draco in the eye.

"Your cousin. You should visit him sometime, he lives with his grandmum, Andromeda." Draco nods, understanding that this is an invitation to discover his family sometime soon. Not now; not when the wounds are raw and the scars fresh. But someday, he will visit this little boy and tell him of this wonderful world; made up of all sorts of different people, and he doesn't know or want to know all of them but he acknowledges they exist and always will; and isn't that something for the son of a Death Eater?


End file.
